


A Nefarious Elf

by Jenocide



Series: Happy Hollstein Holidays [1]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: CARMILLA WEARS GLASSES, Carmilla Secret Santa, Christmas fic, F/F, Smut, no supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 02:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13136904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenocide/pseuds/Jenocide
Summary: Carmilla Karnstein is angry that her flight is delayed on Christmas, but meeting Laura makes up for it.





	A Nefarious Elf

**Author's Note:**

> This is my secret santa fic dedicated to @angiegu11 I hope you like it!
> 
> Also, though, this is dedicated to Maria :)

Carmilla Karnstein, recently promoted CFO of Morgan Enterprises, was royally pissed. Her flight had just been delayed, and there was no way she’d be able to get home in time to finalize the deal for their newest acquisition. Truthfully, she couldn't care less. But for Lilita Morgan—Mother, and soon to be retired head of the same company—this was personal. The brutal takeover of Vordenburg’s small business would be her last official action as CEO. All of this meant that she would not be pleased, and that came with consequences. The infernal woman had no one to blame but herself, not that Carmilla would ever dare tell her so.

With a few choice curses, she shoved her cell into her purse and slumped into the airport chair. Across from her, an attractive young woman in a rainbow Santa hat stared at her as if she wanted to ask something. In addition to the hat, she wore one of those ridiculous ugly Christmas sweaters and was humming along to holiday music that was, unfortunately, bleeding through her earbuds. In her hand, she held some kind of iced coffee, which begged the question about what kind of person drinks iced coffee in fifteen-degree weather. Carmilla looked away in hopes of dissuading any conversation. She’d move to another seat, but her only other option was next to a middle-aged man shamelessly scratching his armpits. Currently, she was in possession of two chairs and refused to give either up, glaring openly at anyone who appeared to consider asking her if they could take the spare one. It was a small joy—watching people scurry away, tails between their legs.

She sighed miserably and as she often did in her lonelier moments, allowing her thoughts to stray to the ex who shall not be named. A year later and the betrayal still stung. A logical part of her understood, but that didn’t mean her heart did. On days like this, while lost in quieter moments, the painful memories often resurfaced.

Maybe this delay wouldn’t last too long. An hour later those hopes were dashed when her flight home was officially delayed for twenty-four hours. And considering the snow storm that was hitting Toronto, it might be longer. Which meant she was stuck in New York. Resigned to their fate, several people started collecting their things. It was midnight and undoubtedly most of them would want to find hotel rooms. Carmilla didn’t move. As miserable as this place was, it was still preferable to being alone in some foreign hotel room. Alone with her thoughts.

“Hey.”

Carmilla glanced up. The girl in the horrible sweater was aiming a thousand-watt smile in her direction. A smile too bright for this setting. “Hey,” Carmilla responded warily, one brow raised.

“Hey, I’m Laura. Are you diabetic?”

Great. Alone in New York on Christmas Eve and she ended up seated across from a crazy person. A crazy person that showed all the classic signs of being someone who couldn’t shut the hell up. “No,” she said, reaching for her things, “definitely not diabetic.” Before she could get up, though, Laura spoke up again.

“Super. Hey, do you think you think you could watch my bags for a few minutes?” Laura motioned to a ratty camouflaged green duffel bag and another smaller backpack that was decorated with several buttons.

“Sure,” Carmilla responded, politely.

“Awesome, be right back. Don’t move!”

About fifteen minutes passed before Laura returned, two coffee cups in hand. She grinned and held one out for Carmilla who accepted it in confusion. There was no way she was planning on drinking this.

“I wasn’t sure if you would stick around,” Laura said and sat back down.

“Why did you bring me this?” Carmilla asked.

“It’s hot chocolate. Peppermint hot chocolate. I had three of these today; they’re amazing. I’ve been here for about twelve hours because my friend who dropped me off needed to go to work. Anyway, you looked sad, and I thought you could use a pick me up. What’s better than hot chocolate for cheering someone up?”

Carmilla eyed her, then the drink. “I’m sad because I’m stuck in New York. And how do I know you’re not a nefarious elf out to poison stranded travelers?”

“Nefarious elf?” Laura asked with a laugh before taking a healthy swallow of her drink. Then she smiled and exchanged exchanged hers with Carmilla’s.

“I have a sister that enjoys holiday-themed horror movies.” Carmilla said as way of an explanation. She stared down at the drink in her hand and noticed a hint Laura’s pink lip gloss had rubbed off on the rim. Huffing, she raised it to her mouth and took a sip. It tasted like chocolate and candy canes and winter. It was delicious.

“It’s amazing right?”

“It’s…satisfactory. You’re on your fourth one of these today? And I saw you drinking some horrid looking iced coffee thing. How is it  _you_  don’t have diabetes?”

“Oh, you were watching me earlier? Let’s talk about that.”

“I noticed your sweater. It’s appalling. Also, it clashes with your Santa hat,” Carmilla clarified.

Rather than be offended, Laura seemed delighted. “I’m embracing the holidays. You, on the other hand, definitely aren’t. I’m guessing you aren’t one to embrace the seasonal splendor.”

Carmilla snorted. “You’d be guessing correctly.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t spreading some cheer though,” Laura said, winking. She then began a slow perusal of Carmilla’s body that began with her Jimmy Choo’s, lingered on her calves and pencil skirt, and took perhaps a few extra seconds to appreciate the sliver of skin that peeked through the undone buttons on Carmilla’s white blouse. When she spoke again, their eyes had locked. “Yep, there’s definitely cheer to be had. You’ve got all kinds of cheer.”

Interesting. “Were you just checking me out? Are you flirting?”

Laura nodded and took a bite of a cookie she’d just pulled out of her backpack. “You have this whole sexy executive power suit look going on. I love the glasses, by the way. Hot.

“I’m flattered. I think. That doesn’t change the fact that you look like you were dressed by a blind elf. A nefarious blind elf.” This insult brought about more laughter, and Carmilla found herself cracking a smile. She had to admit that she was enjoying the attention, though. Especially since Laura was quite attractive herself. Honey blond hair and those dancing green eyes that didn’t find Carmilla intimidating in the slightest.

“So, heading home? How long have you been in New York?”

Not trying to hide her irritated sigh, she gave a half answer. “My mother’s company is based out of Toronto.”

“I overheard part of your conversation and picked up the gist. Sounds like someone is upset that you haven’t mastered control over snowstorms.”

“Do you always hit on women you meet and eavesdrop on their conversations?”

Shrugging, Laura finished off her hot chocolate. “Sometimes. I’m a journalist, so it comes with the territory. The invasiveness, I mean. As for the flirting, well I only hit on beautiful women.” She winked.

“You’re a journalist? A real journalist and not some nineteen-year-old hack who live blogs?” She didn’t try and hide her skepticism.

“Yep. I’m the real thing. Although, I’ll have you know that you’re selling bloggers short. Also, nineteen?”

“Hmmm, so what paper are you with?” Carmilla asked, surprised to find that she was interested to know.

“Oh, I’m freelance. But I’ve-”

Carmilla snorted derisively and rolled her eyes. She’d guessed correctly. Freelance was a pretty word for unemployed.

“-been published in the New York Times, Time, People, Fortune, The Economist. A few others,” Laura finished humbly without looking humble at all. In fact, she seemed downright smug.

“What’s your name?”

“Laura Hollis.”

“Oh. Hey, I’ve heard of you,” Carmilla replied with a small shake of her head. She couldn’t really be blamed that her initial impression of Laura had been completely off base. Carmilla assumed she was young, perhaps in college, but now upon closer examination guessed that they were nearly the same age. She was probably only a few years younger than Carmilla’s twenty-nine. All that bouncy optimism and exuberance was misleading. The ridiculous outfit hadn’t helped either.

“Oh? So, you’ve read one of my articles?” Laura asked, and there was something a little suspicious in the way she said this.

“More than one. The one you wrote about modern-day slavery was eye-opening, but in particular, I appreciated your write-up on Matska Belmonde,” Carmilla replied.

“I was paid pretty well to write that, but she was a pleasant surprise. Fairly grounded for a woman who is soon going to be one of the most powerful people in the world next week when she becomes CEO of Morgan Industries. You’d think she’d be this stuck up person, but I thought Ms. Belmonde was candid and approachable.” Laura slapped one of her knees and said, “Hey, wanna get out of here?”

“And do what? It’s eleven o’clock on a Sunday night,” Carmilla said. “Also, you don’t even know me. I could be an ax murderer.”

Amused, Laura chuckled and stood up. Without a word, she gathered their trash and tossed it into a nearby waste bin before turning back around with a slightly guilty expression. Finally, she said, “Actually, I know exactly who you are. I’ve known since I sat down across from you. You’re Carmilla Karnstein, newly minted CFO of Morgan Enterprises. I wasn’t a hundred percent planning to hit on you until our flight was delayed, though.” She paused a beat and in her next breath, said, “So, wanna bail?”

Blinking in surprise that she’d been recognized, and at the direct approach, Carmilla adjusted her glasses and said, “Are you suggesting that we-”

“Get out of here? Absolutely, I’d love to get to know you better.”

“Is this some kind of set-up for an article? Because I have no intention of giving you a sound bite about my mother’s fall from grace.”

Laura’s expression turned soft. Understanding. “Hey, I’m not out to hurt you or milk you for information on your mother or the company you work for. I saw you tonight and thought that I had to take a chance. I’ve seen your picture before, but you’re even more beautiful in person. And it’s almost Christmas, and it looks like we’re going to be stuck it in New York City. Why should we spend it alone?”

The last year of Carmilla’s life had been hell. One controversy after another surrounding her mother and her ex, who had turned whistleblower and revealed decades of improprieties. Their relationship had been nothing more than a scheme to dig up dirt on the corrupt practices of Lilita Morgan. Carmilla and Mattie had emerged from the wreckage with their reputations barely intact, but a pristine reputation did little to relieve the ache in one’s heart. Or the loneliness she felt every night she returned to an empty apartment. Now, this unexpected proposition offered to chase away those feelings for at least one night. Sighing, Carmilla licked her lower lip and said, “Alright.”

Ten minutes later they were standing in front of a nearby hotel. Carmilla was experiencing a bit of whiplash from thinking some vagrant was hitting on her to discovering she was sharing cocoa with a renowned journalist. One who apparently knew more about her than she’d initially let on. Mother would be furious if she knew about this, and that thought alone propelled her onward. Currently, Laura was discussing some of the details of her latest article. A piece she’d been hired to write over the summer in hopes to boost tourism in Haiti. She ended up trapped by the hurricanes that hit and wreaked devastation across the small country. Her tourism article had morphed into one pleading for assistance for the people who continued to suffer without power or even basic medical assistance. Carmilla was fascinated. Not just with the subject, but with Laura who used her whole body when describing something. Her hands moved constantly as if mere words weren’t enough to give life to the picture she painted. She genuinely cared about what happened to these people.

It seemed that if it was a topic was a good one; Laura could be quite eloquent. Perhaps it was her passion or her undeniable talent, but suddenly all of the ridiculous things about her didn’t matter. Not the extreme amount of sugary drinks, or the mismatched clothing, or the fact that she quite possibly lived out of a duffel bag. Carmilla wasn’t sure what was happening, but for the first time in a year, she didn’t feel like she was sinking. Didn’t feel like the weight of failures and expectations were weighing her down. And miraculously, she found herself drawn to another person.

She tried to offer up her credit card at the hotel, but Laura smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges. “Nope, I got this.”

Carmilla’s heels clicked on the stone floor as they made their way to the elevator. It was a nice place if not entirely up to the standards she was used to. Lilita Morgan demanded that her children keep up appearances after all. “Have you stayed here before?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“With other girls? Once or twice,” Laura said, leaning comfortably against one wall of the elevator. “It’s clean and within my budget.”

“How many other girls?”

This made Laura laugh. “Not nearly as many as you’re thinking. I travel a lot. It gets lonely.”

That was something she could relate to. “I travel a lot too. There’s always some new acquisition to be had.” After a moment she cut to the point and said, “So are we going to…”

“Have sex? I hope so, but if not, maybe we can order dinner and talk. I’d like to get to know you.”

“Why?” Carmilla asked, slightly confused. There was an immediate attraction, sure, but they likely wouldn’t have much in common. She was the privileged daughter of a disgraced millionaire. Of Lilita Morgan’s three children, it was Mattie most people sought out; Carmilla and William were often afterthoughts. Laura, on the other hand, was someone who did something, who put something out into the world.

The elevator dinged before an answer could come. Side by side they walked down a long hallway to their designated room. Laura swiped the key card before opening and holding the door for Carmilla. They hesitated, sharing a moment in which only their eyes spoke, before crossing the threshold.

Carmilla left her bags by the door and slipped out of her heels. If nothing else, that was a relief.

“If I’m being honest,” Laura said, her attention on Carmilla’s shoes, then her painted toenails. “I love the way they look on a woman, but I cringe when asked to wear them. I’m naturally clumsy and suck at pulling off professional. On you though, wow. Have I mentioned how hot this whole look is?”

“Your eyes have said plenty. What else do you love about women?”

Laura toed out of a ratty pair of sneakers and peeled the ridiculous sweater off to reveal a much more appealing tank top underneath. “Well, it’s a pretty long list. Perhaps I can show you?”

“I think I’d like that very much,” Carmilla said, her voice huskier than usual. Was she truly about to hook up with a stranger less than an hour after she’d met her? Yes, yes she was. Mattie was going to laugh her ass off.

With a sly smile, Laura sauntered forth until mere inches separated their bodies. Her fingers plucked the buttons of Carmilla’s blazer open which was then pulled off her shoulders and draped over a nearby chair. And after a questioning glance, the top buttons of her blouse followed. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You are too. Even if you have some questionable fashion decisions.” She smirked and flicked the rainbow Santa hat. Maybe it was kind of cute. They were staring at each other’s lips, each seemingly waiting for the other to make the first move. Carmilla chose for them, she put her hands on Laura’s shoulders and pulled their bodies together.

Laura tasted like chocolate and peppermint. And her body against Carmilla’s was the key to something that had been locked away for far too long. They fit together well, even with the layers of clothing between them. Her hands trailed lower until her fingers found the belt loops in Laura’s jeans. Almost as if they were testing the waters, the kiss started slow. Gentle. That didn’t last long, though, and soon the pace increased when Carmilla’s shirt was pulled out of the waist of her skirt. Someone wasn’t the patient sort.

She broke away from the kiss and spun them around, planting Laura’s back against the wall. Carmilla like having the height advantage, even if it wasn’t more than an inch or so. Her hands moved underneath Laura’s tank, and she immediately developed a great appreciation for girls with abs.

“What do you like?” Carmilla asked as she nipped a prominent vein that stood out on Laura’s neck. Simultaneously, her fingernails dug into Laura’s skin leaving marks that would remind the other woman of this night for days to come. Even if they never saw one another after this night, Carmilla wouldn’t be so easily forgotten.

“I like what you’re doing to me. I knew you’d be like this,” Laura panted.

“Like what?”

“Fiery. Passionate. A little dominant.”

The smirk on Carmilla’s face disappeared when she was spun around and pushed into the wall. “Oh.”

“The thing is,” Laura said wearing a shit-eating grin, “I am too.”

Their kisses were hungry and bruising as they sought to devour one another. Carmilla couldn’t remember it feeling like this like she’d met her match. Laura held her shoulders against the wall until Carmilla got the message, then she drew back. Soon, her blouse was unbuttoned, and Laura’s hands grazed inside her shirt and cupped Carmilla’s breasts.

“Is this okay?”

“Oh yes,” Carmilla murmured, pushing into Laura’s palms. Her nipples were already rock hard.

“And this?” Laura lifted the cups of Carmilla’s bra and rolled her nipples between two fingers. Gentle, then tugging, twisting. “How about this?” Laura asked and with deliberate slowness, lowered her mouth until she could wrap her lips around a nipple. She suckled and swirled her tongue around the tender nub. She switched back and forth, lavishing ample attention upon both breasts.

It didn’t take long for Carmilla to want more. Need more. Her fingers threaded through Laura’s hair and pulled her back. “How would you feel about taking that show a bit lower?”

“I’d love to…if…”

Carmilla’s eyebrow raised in question. “If?”

“If you put those heels back on.” Laura’s eyes were swimming in mischief.

For the first time in ages, unhindered laughter bubbled from Carmilla’s mouth. “I can’t believe you’d have me wear those awful things for an orgasm.”

As she smoothly slid to her knees, Laura smiled and said, “A  _killer_  orgasm. Totally worth it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Carmilla replied, but allowed her feet to be slipped back into the heels.

Laura ran her hands beneath Carmilla’s skirt and along her outer thighs before tracing around back and squeezing her ass. The garment was tight; almost a second skin so didn’t offer much room to maneuver. But Laura didn’t seem to mind. She took her time, content for the moment to map out Carmilla’s flesh by touch rather than sight. She kneaded and caressed, and her touch caused Carmilla to shiver with desire. Soon enough, though, those fingers sought out the skirt’s zipper, and it was peeled away from her body.

“Holy…” Laura said, awed. She was staring at Carmilla’s black lace stockings and garter belt. For some reason, she was at a loss for words, but her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. They traced the straps of Carmilla’s garter up to her waist and then along the delicate lace pattern that matched her thong.

The appreciative gaze was a confidence builder, and if nothing else came from tonight, she’d be grateful for that. But Carmilla was ready for more. “I think it’s time to hold you to your promise. Would you like me to remove this?” she asked, indicating the garter.

Laura nuzzled her nose against the front of Carmilla’s panties and inhaled deeply. “Oh no. I think this is one Christmas present that I want to leave wrapped. The heels, the glasses, and the garter all need to stay. Besides, I’m pretty good at working my way into tight places.” She poked her tongue out and grazed it across her panty-covered clit. Once. Twice. This continued until Carmilla’s already damp panties were soaked. After that, Laura lifted one of Carmilla’s legs and draped it over her shoulder. Her fingers pulled the thong to the side and then her tongue was right there, delving in like this was the first and last time she’d ever get a chance to touch a woman.

Her fingers gripped the unruly strands of Laura’s hair and that silly Santa hat as she tried to guide her movements but to no avail. Laura refused to relinquish control as her tongue burned a fiery trail across Carmilla’s sensitive flesh. It was equally too much and yet not nearly enough. “More. Give me more.” She said this in that same tone of voice that she often used to get results from subordinates.

Groaning in approval, Laura pushed two digits inside her and immediately sought out that small spongy patch of nerves. She was strong, and each thrust of her hand rocked Carmilla’s body; drove her to the brink. And when came, the orgasm causing her muscles to constrict for several seconds until finally, the euphoria faded and Carmilla's body slackened. Only Laura’s quick movements prevented her from tumbling to the floor.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Carmilla licked her lips and smiled. How long had it been since she felt this? Since she enjoyed the company of another woman? Too long. She pulled Laura into another deep kiss and couldn’t help but enjoy the taste of herself on those lips. When they separated, she said, “What happened to your hat?”

“You’re holding it in your hand. I knew you liked it, Grinch.”

Caught up in the silliness, Carmilla winked and pulled the hat on. If asked, she could always deny it later. “Is it my turn now?”

Their clothes were hastily shredded, dropped to the floor in a heap that Carmilla suspected she’d regret later. But right now all she wanted was to claim this exquisite whirlwind of a woman. She dragged Laura into the shower and under the hot steam and rivulets of water pushed three fingers into her. Carmilla nipped at her throat and Laura didn’t seem to mind that she wasn’t entirely gentle. Each kiss, each stroke was met with vocal encouragement.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Laura said through whimpers as Carmilla thrust into her, again and again. Her free hand cupped Laura’s breast, pinched her nipple and when she came, Carmilla held her up until she recovered.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” Carmilla said, and pressed her lips to Laura’s shoulder, her neck, her mouth. “I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”

“Are you tired?” Laura asked as she patted herself dry. She watched Carmilla do the same with open interest and no small amount of hunger.

“Strangely enough, no. However, I’m a little concerned about whatever it is you’re about to suggest.”

“I thought we could go for a walk before we go to bed. It’s the early hours of Christmas morning, and I’m not ready to sleep. I’d like to spend some more time with you.”

Carmilla examined her rumpled clothing. “I’m not sure I’m equipped for a two a.m. walk through the city.”

Undeterred, Laura opened her duffel and began pulling out clothing. “I think we are about the same size. And I have a pair of shoes too.”

The clothing turned out to be a little baggy. Laura was slender but had more muscle mass than her. “Do you work out?” Carmilla asked as she examined the jeans, tank, and flannel shirt in the hotel room’s mirror.

“Yoga. It helps me relax when I get stressed out.”

“Well, I’m pleased to have gotten a chance to sample the result of your labors.” Turning around, the smile she wore fell from Carmilla’s face as she examined the shoes Laura offered. “No. Absolutely not. I already look like a lumberjack. There’s no way I’m going to wear those.”

* * *

“They don’t look bad,” Laura said, swinging Carmilla’s hand which she held in her own. Their feet crunched through the fresh snow that had fallen earlier in the evening.

“They’re crocs. Christmas crocs. Green and red Christmas crocs. I can’t believe one of your friends gave these to you as a secret Santa gift. What were they thinking?” Carmilla said sourly before a laugh bubbled past her lips. Perhaps it was the rainbow Santa hat she refused to return. Perhaps it was the city, sheeted in a blanket of white with its lights shining so brightly. Perhaps it was the woman beside her. But she hadn’t felt this light, this free in so long. After a few seconds of silence, she said, “Thank you. For tonight, for lifting me out of my fog.”

Laura’s eyes met hers. She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and said, “I saw you at the airport and knew I had to take a chance.”

“Why?” This wasn’t the first time she’d gotten the impression that she wasn’t exactly a stranger to Laura. They’d never met, Carmilla was sure of that. And she’d been overseas when the profile was being done on Mattie. Had her sister done or said something that would have sparked Laura’s curiosity?

Laura sighed, winsome and contemplative. She smiled. “Have you ever thought that two people were supposed to meet?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever really thought about it. Do you think we were meant to meet?”

“I don't know. Except, I’ve wanted to ever since I first heard about you.”

“Something my sister said?”

“Before that. Years ago.”

“Hmmm, well, in my family there are only two faces that people are interested in, and mine isn’t one of them.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Laura said and wiped a snowflake from the tip of Carmilla’s nose. “A few years ago, I was doing some research on an orphanage in Austria that had received an anonymous donation of five million Euros. At that time, I was mostly just a researcher, so this wasn’t my article. Anyways, this was the only orphanage to get a donation like that so, being curious, I sought to find out who did it. I was expecting some rich do-gooder.”

Carmilla stared straight ahead. “And what did you find out?”

“It took me a few months. But I discovered that years earlier Lilita Morgan adopted a child from that orphanage. Which led me to do some further research on that child she'd adopted. So, around the same time as the donation, you were rumored to have blown your twenty-first birthday trust fund in Vegas. The amount of your trust fun? The exact amount donated to the orphanage.”

“Interesting hypothesis you have there, Nancy Drew.”

“Care to confirm?”

“I wouldn’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

Grinning, Laura kissed her cheek and said, “I didn’t think you would, which is why I wanted to get to know you. Oh hey, that diner is open, and I know they serve snowballs.”

"Snowballs? That sounds vaguely sexual. Or maybe narcotic related? You really are a nefarious elf."

Laura stopped in her tracks and said, "Yep, just one of Santa's little helpers." Then she stepped into Carmilla's space and there in the middle of the sidewalk, beneath the glowing streetlamps, they kissed.

Someone hooted, but she didn't care, and when they separated, Carmilla let herself be dragged along while still wondering what in the hell a snowball was.

 


End file.
